


Aki the Blueberry Duelist

by FruitFrakker



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's
Genre: Bad Ending, Blueberries, Dubious Consent, Inflation, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:48:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27275200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FruitFrakker/pseuds/FruitFrakker
Summary: Aki learns the 'true' purpose Divine has for her. First Person, Present Tense Blueberry Transformation Story. Dubious Consent, Slightly Darkish Ending. Comments and Feedback are Welcome. Hope to get back into the swing of things relatively quickly.
Kudos: 5





	Aki the Blueberry Duelist

It’s a terrible thing to have power and no one to share it with. No one understands the burden you carry. Maybe it’s not even possible, but I’ve seen how little people try. I’m always a monster, a witch. If I’m being honest maybe there really is nothing to me besides that.

I didn’t want to be a psychic duelist, but since I learned what I was—the terrible capacity I had—love, family and human empathy abandoned me. All I had was this power and contempt for the world that shunned me. I was doomed to either lash out or drown in my self-hatred.

And then… he appeared, and suddenly I wasn’t alone. I had a place, a purpose, but more than anything _someone_ ; someone who felt I mattered, that I was a useful. That I wasn’t a monster, but the way forward for all mankind. Whether I believed it or not was irrelevant—I was wanted. Arcadia became my home.

I stand in front of a mirror, adjusting my crimson bangs around the Containment Roll. I’m about to meet him, my master Divine. How I look should really be of no concern, but Divine says I’m a symbol for the entire Movement now, so I must do my part to meet his expectations. He said it was a very important matter as well. I furrow my brow as I fuss with the pleated sleeves of my white dress, before tightening one of the laces of my corset to give my breasts a bit more support . Divine has said the outfit is ‘graceful and mature, much like yourself’… it’s honestly pointless to dwell on these things. I breathe out, fixing my skirt and petticoat one last time before leaving my room, making my way to Divine’s office.

For some reason the air’s especially chilly when I enter his cavernous office. Or maybe I’m just… nervous? Strange, I don’t remember feeling this way around him before. He’s already standing in the middle of the room, in a grey suit and swishing a cocktail about in his hand. He grins at me broadly and beckons me towards him. As my heels clack against the floor, I notice a multitude of mirrors lining the walls. They weren’t there before… my eyes drift from the fractal manifestations of me and Divine to the man himself. He takes a sip of his wine and releases a satisfied sigh.

“Wonderful vintage, this is. Care for a taste?”

I’ve never had alcohol before, but it seems rude to decline. I take the glass and take a bit more than a sip, choking a little as the sour flavor hits my taste buds. I try to swallow it down. I vaguely remember Arcadia being teetotalers, though it hardly matters now. I cough again into my hand as I offer the glass back to Divine.

“Don’t worry,” he pats me on my shoulder as I regain my breath. “You’ll get used to it. I must say, Arcadia has grown by leaps and bounds since you joined. It’s as if your appearance to our movement were itself miraculous.”

“It was miraculous for me, Divine,” I rest my head against his hand , placing my own on his side. “I wouldn’t know where I’d be without the movement, without you…” I feel my lungs quiver within my chest. Is it the liquor? Or had I pulled my corset strings too tight… I cannot look like a fool in front of Divine; I won’t be discarded by him as well.

“Well I appreciate your loyalty,” he says, drawing his hand away from me, shaking my hand off of him. “But with all the progress we’ve made, it’s made me wonder: what should be the next step.” He turns to face his desk, walking over to throw open a lockbox sitting atop it. He reaches in and pulls out a syringe. “I have a good feeling this might be it.”

I purse my lips, unsure of where this is headed. “Is that… drugs? For psychic duelists?”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he steps back toward me. “You make it sound so vulgar when you put it like that. This-“ He spins the syringe betwixt his fingers. “Is a serum that can permanently augment a person’s psionic ability.” He brushes his brunette bang with a flourish. “I could think of no better person to try it than you.”

“Try?” I reply, biting my lip. “You mean it isn’t ready?” I don’t know why I’m talking back really; I should be jumping at the chance to become more useful to Divine. But something is just off… like a prickle in the back of my head. I can feel every piece of clothing against me—my corset with every beat of my heart, my garters with every subtle movement of my thigh—and out of the corner of my eye I see myself multiplied in the mirrors. I feel like I’m on display.

“We’re at the forefront of revolutionizing humanity, what’s a little risk now and then,” He shrugs, his smile beaming ear to ear. “The technicians say there’ll be a certain amount of physical metamorphosis, but it’s nothing you couldn’t handle.” His hand clutches my shoulder again; I can really feel his fingers grip me through the white blouse as he stares me dead in the eyes. “I’m counting on you, Aki.”

I was never going to say no to him, not in a thousand years. I feel my face light up at the mere thought that I might resist him. Sulking in shame, I slide the sleeve of my left arm back, plenty of creamy skin to plunge his needle into .

His face brightens as he preps the needle. “I knew you’d understand.” He wipes rubbing alcohol where he plans to inject me. “You were always my best disciple. You’re going to do _big_ things, Aki, I just know you are.”

I merely squint my eyes as I ready myself for the shot. “I’ll do whatever—“ I feel the syringe pierce the skin, fluid shooting into me. “Whatever the movement requires. Whatever _you_ require…” I feel the serum begin to seep through my veins; it’s not pleasant. A sense of inflammation spreads up and down my arm as the needle retracts.

“Excellent, excellent!” Divine continues, tossing the empty syringe aside as he walks back to his desk. My attention drifts back to my arm, the tingling stretching from my shoulder to my fingers, which I clutch and extend as if it would do anything to fix the unwanted fuzziness. Soon I feel it sweep over my chest, and now I can really feel my breaths tug against my outfit. I shiver slightly as Divine walks back into view, holding a duel disk with a deck already in the well, which he casually tosses to me. I catch it despite my body tensing up all over, sliding it onto my left arm as if it were second nature. The pressure only adds to my sense of irritation.

“What… do you wish me to do?” I stutter, having to consciously control my breathing—feeling my stomach rise and fall. I tuck my knees in together, feeling the sensation run down my thigh and calves, under my kneesocks down to my feet. “Divine, I’m not feeling so good.”

“Oh you’ll soldier through it,” He says, running his hands through my angular bangs, twirling them about his finger. “You always do. Now… show me what an enhanced psychic duelist is capable of… ” He presses something in his pocket, and with a whir a set of vases on pedestals emerge from out of the floor.

I bite back the awkward churning in my stomach as I draw a card. A fireball spell… that would make a decent display, right? I place it on my duel disk—the sense of pressure in my arm is really growing now—and call out an ‘attack’ on the vase. A large fireball materializes, engulfing and shattering the pottery. Really, I don’t know if it was any stronger than any other time I’ve materialized card effects, but Divine seems impressed. “Amazing! Transcendent!” He claps amidst hollers. “You truly are my most wonderful protégé!”

I draw a deep breath from the exertion, when I notice from the corner of my eye something… odd in the mirror. I glance further and recoil—my hand and bits of arm that are not covered by the duel disk is covered in splotches of blue. Wait, not just my arm—I can see spots on my cheeks and nose, and also down my thigh. My eyes dart down and yes, I am coated in blue stains, each growing and merging into one another. A glance at my cleavage reveals it too has turned a brilliant cerulean; very few spots of beige remain, each blinking out as shivers flow up and down my body. “What’s… happening?” I asked, not quite scared, more concerned. Was this supposed to happen? Am I a failure?

Seeming to sense my unease, Divine shook his head, coming closer to put his hand on my side. “It is all part of the process Aki, there is no need to worry.” My stomach growls angrily as if to contest, and I wish I had any power to silence it. “Only cretins would be bothered by their physical form when they are granted this much psionic power.”

I almost say I don’t feel extra power, but who am I to contradict Divine. Instead I fidget about, feeling the sense of inflammation completely consume me, the gurgling and churning growing ever louder. I think… I hear my outfit—or something—creaking. It’s hard to tell exactly as I feel something shift throughout me, pulsating through my body.

“Play another card, dear,” He says, tapping my duel disk gently with one hand while another presses my crimson bangs against my blue face. I purse my lips as the feeling of nauseous pressure continues to well up in me. I pluck another card, an ice spell. My legs awkwardly rub against one another as I adjust my stance, the garters pulled tightly against my calves. With labored breaths I place the card, several more vases spontaneously shattering into frozen shards. Divine claps, a look of child-like wonder on his face. “Wonderful! The serum is working perfectly! What splendor!”

“Perfectly?” I huff, the duel disk now feeling tight around my arm. All of me now feels inflamed, and it takes a great deal of effort not to groan at the incredible discomfort. “Divine, can you tell me what this is-“

With a whirring groan, my garters begin to tear, then snap away with a sharp crack —one after the other. I nearly topple over from the sudden jolt but keep my footing. I look down and… yes, my thighs and calves are certainly thicker, the tops of my stockings are particularly stretched out. I’m feeling my hips pull against my skirt as well but… it hurts the most in my stomach, tightly constricted by my corset. My eyes glance at Divine, looking for some explanation of this.

He sighs. “I suppose there’s little harm in letting you in on it now. Our scientists have discovered that the best way to bring out a psychic duelists latent abilities is to…” he paused, I almost think he giggles. “Is to turn them into blueberries, yes.” His hand reaches out to stroke against my stomach, his fingertips sliding across the taut buckles of my corset.

“Blueberry…” I repeat somewhat mindlessly, as if I comprehend what he’s saying. If that’s what Divine wants… I feel the back of his knuckle against my breast. My eyes dart down; yes, my breasts are clearly pulling against my mauve dress. It's creaking as it grows increasingly taut. My right hand is drawn to it—as if stroking it would reduce the irritation—but I quickly move it to my belly, feeling the strain against my corset increase. I feel my flesh above and below it push outward, I must be growing into an absurd hourglass shape. Divine seems to appreciate it at least; I feel his hands prod around me. His fingertips stroke my bulging hips as he circles me, my thighs spreading my crimson petticoat further and further out.

“I’ll spare you the details,” he murmurs, his eyes glancing between my face and burgeoning body. “What matters is you’re becoming the absolute model of perfection the Arcadia Movement is striving for. You should feel honored you were chosen for such a privilege.”

“I am.” I quickly reply, a little hurt honestly. Why would Divine doubt my loyalty now of all times? I feel my stockings begin to tear as my calves continue to billow—my cheeks and lips are feeling fuller as well—but I can’t let my discomfort control me. I won’t betray Divine. “Just…” I run my right hand over my stomach, still concave despite my growth, though the buckles in front are beginning to groan under the pressure. “It’s getting… pretty tight.”

“Oh not to worry, I can remedy that…” He produces a butterfly knife from his pocket, and with a single swipe cuts a buckle loose . I shuffle my fattening legs wider, groaning as in quick succession all the buckles fail and my corset bursts off in tatters. My belly… really my whole abdomen spills outward, as if I’d swallowed a tire. The sudden release of pressure… it’s hard to really grapple with, but now my waist is approaching a meter wide. I’m just… so large, so full. My inside is growling and churning and pulling in basically every direction. My dress stretches well enough, but my thick legs are still squeezed together. The bracelets on my arms creak as they expand, holding frustratingly tightly, before bursting off—holes appear in my long fingerless gloves. What hurts the most is this damned duel disk, tightly clutching my arm and not looking likely to let go. I feel the red choker on my neck grow tight as my neck fattens before tearing off and fluttering away. 

“Blueberry…” I mutter again, hand on my stomach as it lifts my growing chest upward, opening up my red jacket further and further. I kind of see it now, looking down at my rotund torso, or over my shoulder to my expanding ass and back. I can still move my legs, but I don’t think I have the balance to do more than spread them further and further apart. My hips are being… stretched by my torso, as if they’re being pulled into it—I feel it in my upper arms as well. I groan; it's not a pleasant sensation to feel your body shift about into a more spherical form. Divine seems amused, poking at my navel now that my dress is pulled tightly against it, jutting out several feet.

“Why don’t you play one more card, dear… for old time’s sake.” His finger traces about my belly button, the fabric of the dress creaking—I suppose even it has limits. I shuffle my legs a bit wider, huffing as I try to process his request.

“Another card…” The duel disk feels like a vice on my left arm, and my right arm isn’t feeling very articulate either. Still…

“Of course, Divine…” I say breathily, glancing at my reflection in the mirror as my chin rubs against my bulbous torso. There’s barely any of my neck left, like it’s melting into my spherical form. The puffy sleeves of my dress begin to be ripped apart by my conical upper arms. It takes all my effort to twist my right arm around my torso, even as I bring my left arm in as close as I can. My breasts are just too large, keeping me from reaching. I grunt, tucking them down a bit, pulling against my stomach to get them just close enough that my fat fingers can just about grab a card from the well. The band holding the disk to my arm finally gives up at this moment, bursting apart. I stagger backwards; I try to keep my footing as my mass tilts back and forth, my stumpy legs are trying to keep up. I thrust my arms out to counter balance myself; I feel myself settling. Then my heels finally slip. Divine disappears from view as I flop onto my back, my hair roll is almost jostled free—my bangs strewn across my plump face—as I pitch side to side to side. I try to flail my limbs but they barely budge; I can’t see them but they feel little more than mounds now. I grunt in frustration; I’ll likely never be on my feet again.

Divine comes back into view, peering over me, flicking my strands of hair about. “Perfection… or close to it…” His fingers stroke around my hands, and I can feel my arms spread uselessly wide, able to do little more than twitch. The feeling of his touch against my useless fingers, that can do little more than clutch impotently… what even is all this.

“Is this… what you want, Divine?” I gasp, feeling my tremendous thighs tear into my skirt before finally bursting them off. Very little is covering me now, my enormous torso covered by nothing but underwear and the remnants of my dress. But, maybe I always was exposed. Divine’s hands drift around my body as he circles me. When I can see him over my fat cheeks and bosom, there’s a smile on his face.

“Of course, of course….”I feel my high heels be plucked from my feet, then the splintered remains of my thigh-highs peeled off my nubby calves. Even moving my limbs is hard now; I can barely feel that they’re distinct from my torso at all. “Your form is _definitely_ what the movement needs…” His fingers clench at a bit of my flesh at what once was my hip. I… I don’t know what I’m feeling, honestly. My head is completely swimming, my body aching from… juice or whatever’s filled me, pulling me tighter and tighter.

“A-and my powers,” I add with a stutter, feeling my cheeks press against what used to be my shoulders, forming a divot around my head that grows deeper. I feel my hands sinking too, my fingers grasping as walls of blue skin as they’re drawn downward.

“Oh yes, obviously, but your body dear,” He strokes my puffy cheek again, reaching over the curve of the divot to get at me. “It is simply _incredible_.” A sudden shove and I’m spinning on my side. No limbs to stop me, just the world twirling about me—my crimson hair flying all about—as my innards churn and groan, before I finally bang into the far wall. I gain my bearings to find myself in a corner, looking at my reflection. What… what even am I? Nothing but a giant blue sphere, with a pudgy face and oversized breasts, covered in nothing but the tatters of my outfit. I can’t see my hands, just the divots they’ve sunken into. And I’m just… huge. My body is still groaning and aching, but I can’t see myself getting larger—I’m already more than a couple meters wide, and so full…

Divine’s fingers stroke me again; I feel… calmer, feeling him toy with my locks. “You’re a true monument to Arcadia’s success. I’m so proud of you, Aki.” Feeling his fingers through my hair, I just feel at ease. This is what he wants, correct. Then, that is what I will be.

“I will always honor the movement,” I grunt, feeling another spurt of growth.

“I know, of course you will,” he says, stroking me gently, his eyes shifting as several Arcadia members enter the room. “Roll the girl to the juicery at once,” he barks. “Take care with this one, she’s the best berry we’ve done yet-“ His words fade from my consciousness as I feel the men surround me. I’m Divine’s berry. I’m the best berry he has. And I won’t fail to serve him well.


End file.
